


You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

by menel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Sex, Flashbacks, Growing Up, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pseudo-Incest, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: Loki wants to have sex, but Thor inexplicably wants to talk. They’re both good at getting what they want. Eventually.





	You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Been struggling with fic titles of late. This one is a real throwback - Dusty Springfield. :) 
> 
> Also, don't be fooled by the light summary. The fic began light and then got heavier, and heavier. And I didn't feel like arguing with the muses.

Loki had to admit that he’s surprised at how quickly they’ve ended up here. There had been a time when such an action would’ve been normal, a regular occurrence even. 

Expected.

But those days seemed like a lifetime ago, though by the long years of their lifespans, it hasn’t even been a half-century. And what was a century when you had millennia at your disposal? A blip in the radar. But he and Thor were different people now, brothers – but not by blood – who had chosen different paths. Yet fate ensured (was he the fatalistic one?) that their paths crossed again so that they would be the ones to pay for the sins of their father. What other secrets had the All-Father brought with him to the afterlife? Loki idly wondered. Odin had betrayed all his children. (For when Hela’s ambition had outstripped his own, was not locking her up also a form of betrayal?) As for Thor and himself…well. They’d been brought up with lies of their own. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

This wasn’t different, Loki thought as Thor pushed him back onto the bed. But it had been a while. He lifted his lips as his brother made quick work of his pants. Thor had stripped himself so quickly that Loki might as well have used a vanishing spell. But now that the race to get rid of their clothes was done, Thor suddenly stilled, sitting back on his haunches as he stared at his brother laid out before him.

Loki inwardly preened at the scrutiny. He knew that his brother found him beautiful; the contrast of fine alabaster against Thor’s own golden skin. But this time the scrutiny lasted too long and the chemistry that had charged the air between them was dissipating, settling into an uncomfortable silence. Loki felt the weight of what remained unsaid. _Now_ wasn’t the time to say those things. Sex and fighting had always been synonymous to Thor. Battle lust would bleed into pure lust, and Loki had often been the recipient of those carnal urges. His brother may have changed, but surely _that_ was still the same.

Loki shifted, breaking the silence. “Are we going to…?” 

“Yes.” 

Thor’s response was immediate, almost automatic, but Loki could detect the hesitation beneath. He was right. Thor still wasn’t moving from his spot.

He needs encouragement, Loki decided. In their boyhood, he would be the one to lead while Thor followed. As they grew older and Thor’s stature as the favored eldest son grew, their roles reversed. And yet, some part of Loki has always known that Thor would always follow him.

With his right hand, Loki swept down the side of his body and heard the expected sharp intake of breath in response. “Better?” he asked, injecting a bit of coyness into his voice, a slight pout into his now full lips. Thor moved then, but not close enough. 

More encouragement, Loki surmised. He reached between his legs and ran two fingers along the wet slit, opening his legs wider as he did so. He watched his brother’s pupil dilate at the action. This was how it had first begun between them when Thor’s curiosity about the other sex first began to consume his thoughts.

* * * * *

“Isn’t it something we should practice?” Thor said to him one day, as Loki reclined on a cushioned bench in one of the secluded alcoves of the palace, a large history book propped on his drawn up legs. Thor had one of his sparring swords drawn, and was going through the latest forms taught by their sword master.

“Practice what?” Loki asked absently, turning a page. 

Thor’s easy swing faltered for a moment, which Loki had seen out of the corner of his eye. “You know,” he said, gesturing aimlessly with his short sword. 

Loki finally looked up. No, he didn’t know, his expression said. 

“Maidens,” Thor finally admitted, as though the word were being wrenched out of him.

Loki couldn’t help his slightly sardonic smile. “There are books for that if you really must know,” he said too sweetly. 

“I’m not talking about book knowledge,” Thor replied with exasperation. “I mean… _practical_ knowledge. The way we practice sword fighting,” he added for good measure.

Loki ignored the veiled jab in his brother’s words. Thor had never taken to his studies the way he had. Thor preferred activity and the outdoors. He even studied better _outside_ , in the gardens or under the shade of a tree. Loki, on the other hand, was content to explore Asgard’s massive library. He could spend days inside the library, forgetting to eat if Thor or Frigga did not drag him to the table for a family meal. 

“By all means,” Loki answered, not without a little venom. “Find a maiden and _practice_. There’ll be no shortage of those willing to participate.” He studiously looked down at the page he was reading, even though he’d accidentally read the same paragraph twice. He sensed, rather than saw, his brother put away his sword. 

“That would defeat the purpose,” Thor said with a sigh. He sat down on the bench beside Loki. Petulantly, Loki pulled his feet closer to create more distance between them. He could feel Thor’s gaze boring into him, but he refused to acknowledge it. 

“You want to be good at something before you try it on the real thing,” Thor went on when it was clear that Loki wasn’t going to carry his half of the conversation.

“You could…” Thor hesitated. 

Loki’s head shot up. “I could…what?” he pressed, even though he’d already divined the meaning behind his brother’s ambiguous words. How truly…unexpected. The smile he gave Thor now was no longer sweet. 

“I could…what?” he said again. 

He was going to make Thor _say_ it. He could tell by the flush in his brother’s cheeks (anger? shame? embarrassment?) and how his eyes darted nervously, unable now to hold Loki’s gaze, how badly Thor wanted this. Wanted _something_ from him. The sudden power over his brother was intoxicating. 

“Tell me,” he demanded.

Thor bristled at the command in his tone, but his brother wouldn’t back down. “Transformation has always come naturally to you,” he said instead, cleverly avoiding saying the specific words. Who said Loki was the only one with a silver tongue? 

“Ever since we were babes, Mother praised you for the complexity of your spells. Your magic is…much advanced for your age.” 

Loki was quietly impressed that Thor was speaking so openly about his magic. It was a topic that his brother often avoided. Although he would never say it aloud – Thor had too much respect and love for his mother and brother – he did not understand magic or Loki’s predilection for it. In his world, to be a great warrior and ruler was the highest honor, and though seidr was practiced by both sexes, the number of female practitioners far outweighed the men. There was also the taboo that surrounded seidmenn, though Loki as a son of Odin would never be subject to that taboo. At least, not to his face. The All-Father himself was the mightiest of seidmenn, but his sorcery was merely an extension of his omnipotence, not its cause. To Odin, sorcery was a knowledge like any other. 

“And what would you have me transform into?” Loki mused, leaning forward. “Hmm? The maiden of your dreams? Your ideal mate? Sif, perhaps?” 

“No,” Thor quickly dismissed. “None of that.” 

“What then?” Loki asked, genuinely perplexed. 

“I would have you transform into…” Thor trailed off and took a deep breath. Loki could actually see his brother willing himself to finish his request. “…into you,” he said at last. “A female form of you. I am curious to see what you would look like.” 

“Have you fantasized about it?” Loki taunted before he could stop himself. Sometimes his whip-smart mouth was too quick for his own good.

“Yes,” Thor breathed. The naked desire in his eyes stunned Loki into silence. 

“It wouldn’t be real,” Thor went on, tearing his gaze away. “Anything that we would do. It would merely be…” 

“Practice,” Loki finished for him, sitting back. 

“Yes,” Thor agreed, glancing at his brother. “Practice.” 

It was a mad, mad idea and Thor’s rationalization of it was shallow, at best. But if his brother needed to pretend…

“Will you do it?” 

Loki didn’t respond, but he already knew what his answer would be. Mad ideas were his favorite ideas. Besides, it was a transformation he’d already done when he’d first become curious about women’s bodies. The difference was he’d imitated other women and hadn’t given much thought into what he would look like as a woman. That detail was what made Thor’s request so intriguing. His brother had fantasized about what _he_ would look like as a woman, what he’d like to _do_ with him as a woman. 

“Never mind,” Thor muttered, interpreting Loki’s silence as refusal. “It was a foolish thought.” 

“Was this what you imagined?”

The pale hand that gripped Thor’s wrist held the same amount of strength, but it was more fine-boned and delicate. Loki watched with keen eyes as his brother turned to face him. He shut the heavy book with his free hand and placed it on the bench as he shifted closer; his finely tailored shirt, vest and trousers were now a finely tailored gown in his trademark shades of green and black with a hint of gold embroidery. His nails were lacquered a deep blood red, the same color that now stained his lips. His raven hair was longer, falling over his shoulders in its natural waves. He watched with fascination as Thor devoured him with his eyes, his hand reaching up, but hesitant to touch. Loki caught his brother’s hand and cradled it against the satiny smooth skin of his face. 

“I would know you anywhere,” Thor said, leaning closer. 

“How so?” Loki whispered, the tenor of his voice familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. 

“Your eyes,” Thor answered. “Your brilliant green eyes.” 

Loki’s laugh was low and much too seductive. “Is that the best you can do, brother?” he teased. “To woo a maiden?”

“Are my words not pleasing?” Thor returned in mock offense. His other hand was now on Loki’s slim waist. Loki allowed Thor to curl that strong arm around him so that they were flushed together, his bosom against Thor’s chest. 

“They are common,” Loki goaded, his smile slicing sharper as he elegantly draped an arm across his brother’s shoulder. 

“Would you teach me, then?” Thor mused. “What pretty words I should say?” 

Loki’s smile became deceptively demure. “I might,” he assented, with lowered lashes.

A look of concern flitted across Thor’s golden features and he pulled back slightly. “Have you done this before?” he asked, dropping all pretense of seduction. 

Loki studied his brother. The question, he knew, referred to more than the transformation. It perturbed Thor to think that Loki had been intimate with someone else. This wasn’t a race, Loki realized, not like all their other races. Who could run faster? Who mastered the newest weapon? Who finished their studies first? No, this wasn’t about who had been intimate with the opposite sex first (though it was a _little_ about that, Loki conceded). This was about whether Loki had been touched by someone else _before_ Thor. Loki smiled inwardly at this newfound knowledge. His brother’s possessive streak ran even deeper than he’d realized. 

“Kiss me,” he told Thor. “And find out.”

* * * * *

That was how it started: a single kiss leading to other kisses. Some fevered, some chaste. Others slow and sensuous, others sharp and biting. They learned each other’s bodies; they responded to the other’s touch. There were couplings in bed and on balconies, against walls and other flat surfaces. Always, Loki stayed in his female form. (Once they had been caught by their physics tutor. Loki, of course, was not recognized, but Thor had been suitably punished. Later that night in the darkness of Thor’s chamber, Loki had laughed so hard that tears fell from his eyes, until Thor bound him to the bed with scarves laced with runes that prevented Loki from using his magic. Then Loki’s cries turned into cries of something else.) 

It was years later before Thor would ask Loki to stay in his male form, the form of the brother that he knew. By then, Thor was on constant campaigns with the Warriors Three, settling skirmishes with trolls, giants, ogres, and nomadic raiders. He maintained the peace throughout the Nine Realms. As Odin’s right hand, he was demonstrating to the people that he was worthy of inheriting the throne. Loki didn’t particularly enjoy these campaigns, but he accompanied his brother because Thor would have it no other way. 

“We will always fight side by side,” Thor told him in all his supreme confidence. “You and I.” 

Loki didn’t believe it then (like he didn’t believe it now), but it was a nice, albeit naïve thought that kept his brother happy.

It was on Hogun’s home world, after another successful victory against raiding warlords followed by a night of feasting and carousing, that Thor had entered Loki’s tent in the darkness. Thor was not known for his stealth, but he could be light of foot when it mattered, and these trysts with Loki mattered. 

Loki, who had retired earlier, had been expecting his brother. This pattern was familiar by now. But on that night, Thor broke from their pattern. With his hand on his brother’s nape, Thor pulled Loki into his lap. 

“No,” he whispered in Loki’s ear before Loki could transform. “I would have you as you are.” 

In the darkness of the tent, Loki smiled against Thor’s skin. He would be Thor’s first in this as well.

It would take even more years after that first night in a tent before Thor would let Loki take him. And Loki knew, with that first slow push inside the heat of his brother’s body, that Thor would not share this with anyone else.

* * * * *

Now, as before, Loki eased himself into his brother’s lap, long limbs wrapping around Thor’s waist. Thor was already half-hard and Loki settled comfortably, rubbing his moist slit against Thor’s length as he placed his arms around his brother’s neck. Thor automatically steadied him with one hand on Loki’s lower back. But when Loki leaned in to kiss him, Thor pulled back. Amused, Loki arched a questioning brow.

“I would have you as you are,” Thor simply stated. 

“Are you sure?” Loki said, tilting his head to bare the long column of his neck. He had learned from the beginning that Thor could not resist that part of his body, whether as a male or a female. True to form, Thor bent his head and placed a soft kiss at the junction where shoulder met neck. 

“You did not seem particularly enamored with me as I am,” Loki continued, one hand trying to get the measure of Thor’s shorter hair. It would take some getting used to. 

Thor looked up from where he’d begun trailing a line of kisses up Loki’s neck. “Please,” he said, meeting Loki’s gaze evenly. “As you are.”

Loki held Thor’s gaze a moment longer, reading an underlying turbulence there before he capitulated, the supple curves of his body changing into angular planes and lean muscle. This time when he leaned in to kiss Thor, his brother met him halfway and seized control of the kiss. Loki rocked his hips as the kiss deepened, the motion causing friction between their straining cocks. When he reached down to take them both in his magically oil-slicked hand, Thor broke the kiss with a groan. Finally, Loki thought, as he established a rhythm between them. This was unambiguous. 

Thor’s breathing was growing more ragged, and Loki wasn’t surprised when Thor eventually flipped them over. He landed on the bed with a soft grunt, but a pleased smile. Thor loomed over him, strong arms bracketing either side of Loki’s body. Before the hesitation could return to his brother, Loki reached out, drawing him closer. It was the right incentive. Thor obliged, mouth, tongue and hands mapping Loki’s chest and abdomen, moving ever lower until…

Loki sighed when the bliss of his brother’s mouth enveloped him. Legs resting on his brother’s broad shoulders, he closed his eyes as Thor held him down at the hips while he continued to lick and suck. A moan escaped him when two fingers began to work him open. He almost forgot the spell for the oil to smooth the way, instead of the mingled spit and pre-come that Thor was using. Besides, he always enjoyed a bit of pain. Their bodies were much too resilient for there to be any true damage in their couplings. Then Thor inserted a third finger, and then a fourth. Loki’s breathing had become audible and he strained his legs wider with his hands at his knees. 

“May I?” Thor asked, just when Loki was starting to think he could come on his brother’s fingers and mouth alone.

“Finally,” Loki muttered, dropping his hands from his knees. He went boneless as Thor moved back up his body. He liked his brother’s weight, the solidity of him. But when Thor settled on top of him and then stilled, Loki opened his eyes and looked at him with mild irritation. “Why do you _stop_?” 

“I would savor this.” 

The answer gave Loki pause. His brother remained troubled. 

“I thought you were dead,” Thor whispered, his voice close to breaking.

Loki heard the vulnerability like a stab to his own heart. He had forgotten how differently time had passed between them. For Thor it had been a scant few days since learning that Loki lived and was impersonating Odin, to Odin’s death, Hela’s release, the loss of Mjölnir, and the destruction of Asgard. Thor had lost everything ( _not everything_ , a voice whispered, but Loki silenced it). His brother has had no time to grieve, to process all that had happened. And now the weight of the crown that he had refused once before lay heavily on his brow. It was left to him to rule a proud, but displaced people. By contrast, Loki had weeks to come to terms with Odin’s betrayal and with the uncertainty of the future. Alone and fending for himself on Sakaar had given him time to think and to plan ahead. Asgard could not be saved. He had known it immediately. And so, he had turned his back on what had once meant everything to him. It had been time for a clean slate. Another reinvention. 

_Easier to let it burn._

But Thor’s arrival on Sakaar had changed all that, just as his brother was threatening to change things now. At a loss for words (a truly rare occurrence), he reached up and curled a hand around Thor’s nape to draw his brother in for a slow kiss, infusing it with as much reassurance as he could. 

“I am here,” he said when the kiss ended, repeating the words that had first caused the dam to break within Thor. 

The words, the kiss. It was not enough. Loki could see it in his brother’s expression. Thor wanted more from him and he was not prepared to give it. 

“There will be time for that later,” Loki deflected. “To say what needs to be said.” 

Thor’s gaze sharpened, became calculating in a way that Loki was unused to seeing in his brother. Thor had matured since they had last met (since he’d _died_ ) and the thought inwardly made him smile. 

“Such a statement implies many things, brother,” Thor countered, the gravitas in his tone almost turning his words into an unspoken command.

He is my liege now, Loki thought. He understood well enough what Thor was seeking, what remained unsaid between them. 

_Will there be a ‘later’? How long will that ‘later’ last? Already, you are planning to leave. To leave_ me. _And this time, I can no longer follow. Will you stay? Tell me that you’ll stay. Promise me._

“I will be here when you wake.” 

It was the best that Loki could do. Thor seemed to accept this since he was the one that leaned down to kiss Loki, a kiss filled with such tenderness and hope that Loki had to break it. 

“Let us finish this, yes?” he said, dislodging his brother and turning over so that he lay on his front. He enjoyed this position, the way Thor’s chest fit perfectly against his back. It was also easier and provided just the right angle. But in truth, he also couldn’t bear to look at Thor, to see any kind of hope on his brother’s face. Or acceptance. Or resignation. And he didn’t know what his own expression would reveal, how much more he could hide. Illusions would only carry him so far. 

Thor brushed his hair to the side and planted a kiss on the base of Loki’s neck. Then he was pushing in, Loki’s body tensing slightly at the intrusion before opening up for him. Loki kept his weight on his forearms, knowing the precise moment when his brother bottomed out. Thor stilled briefly, adjusted, made sure Loki was comfortable. (For his sometime brutish ways, Thor was always a considerate lover.) Then he was fucking Loki with maddeningly slow, even strokes. His brother could keep this up for hours, but Loki wasn’t going to last that long. He eventually released the weight from his arms, allowing Thor to fuck him into the bed. He rested his forehead on the pillow – a scratchy cotton that was so different from the silk of Asgard – as he reached beneath him to fist his cock. 

“No,” came Thor’s urgent voice in his ear. “Let me do that.”

It could have been a command, Loki thought. But it sounded more like entreaty. He took his hand away, placing his arms on either side of his head so that he could grasp the pillows for some leverage. Thor’s large palm fisted his cock, his thrusts now timed perfectly with the sliding motion of his hand. Loki could feel the crest coming, building, building, white-hot behind his eyes and tightening in his balls. The pillows muffled his cry when he came, his body still trembling from his release when Thor followed him over the cliff. He felt his brother bite him painfully on the shoulder as Thor spilled inside him, a bite so deep it had surely drawn blood. 

Loki lay on the bed completely spent. Thor was a heavy weight on top of him, but he was too sated to move. There was a dull ache in his right shoulder where Thor had bitten him, the ache being soothed now by his brother’s tongue. That was going to bruise. He thought he’d keep it, let it heal the old-fashioned way. Let his brother have his mark. 

As if anticipating that he was about to move, Thor wrapped an arm about Loki’s waist and rolled them both onto their side with Loki trapped in his embrace. With a wave of his hand, Loki cleaned them both up and then drew the covers over them. Even with the thermostat, long space flights could get chilly. He waited, expectant, until Thor’s even breathing on his neck told him that his brother had fallen asleep. 

Now was the moment to slip away. He could have done it so easily as he had done so many times before. But his promise to his brother stayed his actions. He would be there when Thor woke. Nevertheless, sleep was not the friend of a restless mind. Loki lay in bed wide-awake long after his brother rested in a deep slumber.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to Marvel. No infringement is intended; no profit is being made.


End file.
